


your heart will always draw me in like gravity

by orphan_account



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, But it's not like awful or anything, Cliche, Established Relationship, False Accusations, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Seungmin is a great best friend, There are some hints to vomiting here that might be a little too descriptive for some tastes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-04-19 16:40:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21913606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Hyunjin is fed up when Jisung, longtime boyfriend, keeps accusing him of something he definitely didn't do. No couple is perfect, not even Hyunjin and Jisung.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Hwang Hyunjin, Kim Seungmin/Yang Jeongin | I.N
Comments: 15
Kudos: 121
Collections: SKZ Secret Santa





	your heart will always draw me in like gravity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stellalunar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellalunar/gifts).

> hi, recipient! i deliberated for a really long time on how to end this. i hope you find it enjoyable!!
> 
> i also edited this at one in the morning, so sorry for any errors or anything that might sound confusing.
> 
> *user has been changed from fairychen to sprbs*
> 
> (title sort of taken from exo's gravity)

It’s beyond midnight when Hyunjin finally comes home. It’s a rundown apartment barely big enough for one, let alone two, young men, but home all the same. They’ve lived in this apartment for months already. Hyunjin is setting his keys in the little dish on the end table by the couch, careful to avoid any loud noises, when a voice startles him.

“Nice of you to actually come home at a decent hour, Hyunjin,” says the voice. Hyunjin sighs as he turns around to look at Jisung, just where he knew he’d be: the archway that separates their kitchenette and living room, leaning against the side of it with his arms crossed over his chest. 

Hyunjin readjusts the duffle bag on his shoulder. “Listen, Sung, I really don’t want to hear it tonight,” he mumbles. “It’s been an awful day and this is just going to make it worse.”

Jisung scoffs, standing up straighter. Hyunjin realizes he’s in his sleep clothes still, blond hair askew over his eyes. Looks like Hyunjin woke him up anyway. “ _ Don’t want to hear it,  _ huh? Don’t you ever think about how I feel?” The way Jisung’s voice cracks when he says it makes something awful tighten in Hyunjin’s chest. “How do you think I feel with my boyfriend coming home late every night?”

“You  _ know  _ it’s showcase week, Sung. Minho’s been drilling us for hours this week. He wants everything to be perfect. Our degrees are riding on this, Sung. You know that, too.” Hyunjin clenches the fist he has around the strap of his dance bag.

“I’m sure that’s not the only thing Minho’s been drilling,” responds Jisung, voice hard and dry, void of the joyful lilt his voice usually contains. Jisung is mere feet away from Hyunjin at this point, arms still crossed tightly over his chest. He exhales loudly through his nose.

Hyunjin clenches his jaw and lets his bag drop to the ground. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his track pants to hide how he digs his sharp nails into the palms of his hands. “ _ Excuse me _ ? Don’t you  _ dare  _ make me out to be a cheater. I’ve been nothing but loyal to you for the literal years we’ve been dating. You know that.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not so sure anymore. You’ve never stayed this late during showcase week before. Who’s to say you aren’t staying behind with Minho for some ‘extra practice’?” he says, complete with air quotes that only serve to make him look ridiculous. Normally, Hyunjin would laugh, but now, the only thing he feels bubble in his throat is acid.

“Screw you. I’m going to Seungmin’s. I literally cannot deal with this tonight. I already told you I’ve had an awful day and all you’ve done is accuse me of something you know I’d never do,” Hyunjin seethes as he pushes past Jisung. As he enters their shared bedroom, he bites his lips to dam the burning tears that begin to collect in his eyes. His chest aches as he shoves a few changes of clothes into the duffle bag he and Jisung normally share. The pain starts at his heart, and it’s not long after that it begins to spread into his bones, stretching from the top of his head to the very tips of his toes. It’s a pain like no other he’s experienced before. It burns him from the inside out.

When Hyunjin recollects his keys from the glass dish, he takes one look back at Jisung, who now sits on the couch with his head in his hands. He’s about to turn and leave when Jisung speaks, eerily quiet. “Your silence is damning, Hyunjin. It really is.”

With one mumbled “Let me know when you come back to your senses. I’ll be staying with Seungmin. I love you,” Hyunjin steps out the door and shuts it quietly behind him.

Hyunjin doesn’t text Seungmin before he’s pulling into the parking lot of the male’s apartment building. Seungmin will know why he’s here as soon as he opens the door. After all, Hyunjin had been here just two days prior, and the day before that, too. 

And he does. The moment Seungmin opens the door after Hyunjin’s three quick raps upon it, Seungmin pulls him into a hug. Hyunjin finally lets the tears fall when he’s in the security of his best friend’s arms. Hyunjin vaguely registers the quiet creak against the wooden floorboards as Jeongin steps out of his and Seungmin’s bedroom, but he pays the boy no mind. He merely buries his face into the flannel of Seungmin’s pajamas that smell like home in a different way than Jisung, like an old childhood house in which your favorite memories forever lie, even if you move into a larger, grander home.

Seungmin is silent as he holds Hyunjin tight as if he’d float away, strong and reassuring even if the two boys sat on the floor in a crumpled heap of arms and legs.

After a while, Jeongin coaxes the two apart with an offering of hot tea to both of them. As Hyunjin and Seungmin sit on the couch, pressed together, Hyunjin notices the subtle blotchiness of Seungmin’s face, and the red that’s crept its way into the white of his eyes. Seungmin rarely cries, and the sight makes Hyunjin eyes threaten to break the dams once more.

Hyunjin takes a few sips of his tea to heal his dry throat before he speaks. “I’m so sick of it, Seungmin,” he whispers, voice cracked and dry and barely there. “You know how much I love him,” Hyunjin pauses to breathe in deeply, and bites his lip hard when he exhales, “but I can’t keep doing this. Before it was just little jabs, you know. He never came out and told me he thought I was being unfaithful. But today he straight-up said I was fucking Minho or something. I understand he’s insecure but the fact that he’d have so little faith in me after all this time fucking hurts.”

“I know,” Seungmin says in a quiet exhale. He hasn’t touched his tea. He merely stares at the front door with an empty look on his face, stark white mug cupped between his hands, usual expressive eyes dimmed like the stars on a cloudy night. He looks back to Hyunjin after a few moments. “You don’t deserve it. You know I love Jisung too,” he sighs, “but this isn’t fair to you. He’s being very unreasonable.”

Hyunjin and Seungmin are silent for a long time. Perhaps it’s seconds, minutes, or even a half-hour, but it’s deafening and it weighs on Hyunjin’s chest. After a while, Jeongin pads over to the couch to press a gentle kiss into the crown of Seungmin’s head, and he parts with mumbles of ‘I’m going back to bed’ and ‘see you in the morning.’ His chest aches. He misses Jisung.

“I just don’t know what to do,” says Hyunjin, setting his mug on the coffee table and folding his hands delicately in his lap. He stares at his fingers like they’re interesting instead of large and oddly veiny.

“If you really want this to end, or at least try to get through it,” Seungmin begins, “the both of you have to talk. I know  _ you  _ know you aren’t cheating on Jisung, but all Jisung has gotten from you is hostility back.” And when Hyunjin opens his mouth to protest, Seungmin continues on. “No, you have done nothing wrong. I am not trying to pin the blame on you, Hyunjin. But sometimes people just need to be reassured. Jisung is so...romantic. He’s sentimental and in touch with his feelings, you know?”

Hyunjin just nods stupidly.

“And sometimes, he gets so wrapped up in his own emotions for things like songwriting that they, I don’t know, just, manifest into his moods. And his insecurities take advantage of that. I’m not saying he’s in the right or anything. But he is coming from a place of vulnerability and inability to admit that he’s feeling insecure. You know how he gets. Should have he been so accusatory about it? Absolutely not. But you should be a bit accommodating to him unless he purposely tries to hurt you.” Seungmin takes a deep breath after he finishes, eyes darting around the room.

Hyunjin sits there, eyes still fixated on his hands. He exhales as his eyes graze over the simple silver band on his left hand, a promise ring that matches the one he’d gifted Jisung for his birthday just a few months ago. He smiles sadly as he twists the ring around his finger.

“I guess I’ll talk to him,” Hyunjin says in a small voice that he barely recognizes as his own. “But tomorrow. I just wanna go to bed right now.”

Seungmin nods and moves to stand up, but Hyunjin grabs his hand. “Thanks for letting me stay here, ‘Min. And listening to me dump everything on you. It really means the world to me.”

“Anything for you, Hyunjin. And mi casa, su casa, right,’ Seungmin jokes with a bleak laugh. “Goodnight. I love you.”

“Love you too, Min.”

After setting up home base on Seungmin and Jeongin’s couch, Hyunjin pulls out his almost-dead phone to open the chat between him and Jisung. He feels his heart almost tug out of his chest, trying to pull him to apartment 325 in the highrise across the city, where a boy who was probably sleeping by now lay in a king-sized bed too big for one person. Hyunjin almost smiles at how cute Jisung would normally look, even more youthful in slumber than while awake.

**From: Me**

i just wanted to say goodnight. please sleep well, sung. we have to talk tomorrow, you and i both know that.

**From: Me**

i love you.

+++

When Hyunjin awakes the next morning, his head pounds. It takes him a moment to remember he’d stayed the night at Seungmin and Jeongin’s, and even longer to remind himself that the gentle clatter of dishes in the kitchen isn’t Jisung washing the dishes from the night previous.

When he sits up, his head begins to throb, like a band squeezing around his head and cycling through phases--tight, loose, tight, loose. It aches so bad that he feels tears prick the corner of his eyes. He presses the heels of his hand against his eyes until he sees stars flicker behind his eyelids.

“Seungmin,” he croaks, since he can hear two voices murmuring in the kitchen over the soft whir of the stove fan. For a moment, he thinks the other didn’t hear him, but before he even has the chance to open his mouth to repeat himself, Seungmin is at his side. Hyunjin has half a mind to laugh at the baby pink apron Seungmin’s wearing, with the telltale white powder of instant pancake mix spattered across the fabric (and Seungmin’s face), but he doesn’t, especially when his head hurts so bad.

“Do you have any painkillers? My head is killing me,” Hyunjin groans. He watches Seungmin nod and disappear down the hallway to the bathroom, and return moments later with a bottle of store-brand ibuprofen tablets.

Hyunjin quickly swallows down two tablets and prays that his headache will go away within the hour. Only a few moments after, Jeongin makes his way to Hyunjin (He’s wearing the same pink apron, matching right down to the pancake mix. The two are so infuriatingly cute and domestic that it makes Hyunjin’s heart ache. If he thinks of Jisung and himself buying matching aprons even though neither of them can cook, and that the thought makes his eyes misty, that’s no one’s business but his own.) to tell him that breakfast is ready.

Breakfast quiet. It’s clear that the two made this special for Hyunjin. After all, his eggs are over-easy, just the way Hyunjin likes them. Jeongin and Seungmin only eat scrambled eggs. It makes Hyunjin smile, a real, genuine smile despite every that happened last night. He loves his best friends.

And once again, it seems that Hyunjin’s about to cry. Except for this time, he notices a tear roll off the tip of his nose and onto his plate (thankfully an empty portion) before it’s too late, and suddenly, he’s crying.

“Hyung, are you okay?” comes Jeongin’s gentle voice.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he replies, but his voice cracks and then more tears begin to pour from his eyes. His eyes already begin to burn, but none of that matters when both Seungmin and Jeongin encircle Hyunjin on either side of him in a tight embrace.

“Sorry guys,” Hyunjin croaks for the umpteenth time in the past twenty-four hours, when the tears have finally ebbed enough so he’s not at any risk of crying again the moment he speaks. “I’ve just felt awful and you guys doing this for me is really just...I don’t know, triggering something sensitive in me,” he tries to joke, but the laugh comes out dry and not at all like his usual boisterous, high-pitched laughter that Jisung used to tease him for.

“Don’t thank us, Hyung,” says Jeongin in his left ear, and “We love you, Jin,” says Seungmin in his right ear. Seungmin, however, is the only one that continues. “You deserve it. You’ve been through a lot lately and you need someone to do something special for you once in a while. Besides, I don’t think you’ve eaten real food in a month. Before you say anything, no, takeout and meals from the dining hall aren’t real food. I mean food cooked in an actual kitchen at home.” This finally gets soft laughter (and a nod) out of Hyunjin.

"However, just because I made you breakfast, doesn't mean I'm gonna let you forget about your responsibilities today," Seungmin says before digging into his breakfast. Hyunjin doesn't have much of an appetite, but he cuts little bits of the egg whites off just so he doesn't disappoint Seungmin again.

Hyunjin sniffs. "Yeah, I know. I'm gonna talk to him today, I promise. I don't want this to simmer for a few days, because at that point, it could boil over, you know?” he says as he pokes at the egg yolk, smiling sadly as it spills all over the plate. Somehow, the most minute things make Hyunjin think of Jisung, like the egg yolk; he thinks about the fact that the only food he and Jisung know how to make is eggs, and the first time that Jisung ever tried, he fried Hyunjin’s egg over-well and cried when Hyunjin stabbed the center of the egg, only to find that the golden yolk was a pale yellow, hard, and trapped within the confines of the egg whites surrounding it. He ended up bursting into tears because he wanted to impress Hyunjin so deeply.

“Hyunjin, hey, Hyunjin--” Seungmin’s nasally voice draws Hyunjin from his thoughts. Hyunjin shakes his head as if the memories were like water trapped in his hair.

Hyunjin clears his throat. “Yeah, sorry,” he says and scoops some of the yolk into his mouth. “Kind of spaced out for a second there.”

Seungmin merely hums, and Jeongin remains quiet still. It’s comfortable, and Hyunjin is glad he’s able to eat in peace. Hyunjin has a feeling that he’ll face much more emotional taxation later in the day.

+++

When Hyunjin finishes his breakfast, he finally remembers to check his phone. He tries not to be disappointed when all he sees in his chat thread with Jisung is his own messages from last night and a threatening  **unread ** staring back at him, but he knows deep in his heart that it’s probably too early for Jisung to be awake anyway, since he already stayed up late last night to wait for Hyunjin.

However, he still has to bite back the tears after he stares at the chat for minutes. Then, he takes a deep breath and shoves his phone into his hoodie pocket.

Once he’s finished his coffee that Seungmin had provided with breakfast, he knows it’s time.

“Seungmin,” he says, and his best friend looks up from the novel he’s reading. “I think I’m gonna leave. Better now than never, right?” he laughs softly.

“Better now than never,” Seungmin repeats. He guides Hyunjin to the front door with the ghost of a hand on his lower back. Within seconds, Jeongin’s at Seungmin’s side with a reassuring hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder.

With a bear hug from Seungmin so tight you’d think he was going to war and a soft, “everything will be okay,” Hyunjin leaves Jeongin and Seungmin’s apartment.

When he finally creeps down the third-floor hallway of his and Jisung’s apartment building, Hyunjin’s stomach plummets like an elevator death drop. When apartment 25 comes into his view, bile rises into his throat, but he knows now, more than ever, that he must be brave.

Hyunjin unlocks the door, and the first thing he notices is that the apartment is eerily silent besides the gentle whir of the shitty furnace. Not even the outdated flatscreen was turned on.

The thought finally hits him that Jisung might not even be home, but it’s brushed from his mind as quickly as it came when he sees the mop of blonde hair poking out from the comforter. But then he notices the  _ other  _ mop of hair, this time a soft lavender with dark roots creeping from the scalp. Hyunjin gags and bile burns his throat and threatens to invade his mouth. The bile makes its retreat when the purple head stirs, and Hyunjin sees a familiar freckled face and rumpled sleep clothes.

It’s just Felix. 

“Hyunjin?” asks Felix, tired eyes squinting up at Hyunjin. If Hyunjin considered Felix’s voice deep and smooth on a normal day, Felix’s voice after sleep was like sandpaper over jagged rock. He rubs across his face haphazardly with the palm of his hand, as if he’s trying to wipe the sleep away entirely.

“Yeah,” Hyunjin says.

Felix gets out of bed and steps towards Hyunjin.

“I’m not really happy with you right now, Jin,” says Felix lowly, which makes Hyunjin gulp. “But I figure you’re probably here to just talk to him. I am in contact with Seungmin after all. But--”

“But?”

“If you fuck this up and hurt Jisung,” Felix takes a deep breath, “then so help me God, I will find you, and I will make sure you regret it. I love you to death, but my protectiveness over Jisung surpasses whatever love I have for you. Don’t say anything you’ll regret.”

“I know, ‘Lix. I won’t try to hurt him on purpose. Hopefully, things will be a little better after this.”

“Alright, Jin. I’ll go now, so tell Jisung I love him, yeah?”

Hyunjin nods and waits until he hears the click of the front door shut, far too loud for the unsettling silence that currently resides in their apartment, before he approaches the sleeping Jisung.

Hyunjin kneels before the bed on the side that Jisung lays. For a moment, he frowns at the thought of having to wake Jisung up, but he knows that firstly, he can’t let the boy oversleep, and secondly, they need to talk before anything gets worse.

He gently caresses Jisung’s hair with a shaky hand, murmuring encouraging words mixed with soft pleas for Jisung to wake up, until the boy stirs.

“Jinnie?” he says as he blinks open his wide brown eyes and peers up at Hyunjin.

But Hyunjin can see the instant that Jisung remembers all of last night’s events and sees how quickly tears well up in the doe eyes that Hyunjin loves so much.

Jisung wrenches himself into a sitting position at the other end of the bed as if Hyunjin’s touch burnt him, and with a shaky, quiet voice that betrayed the tough demeanor he tried to put on, he says, “What are you doing here, Hyunjin?”

Hyunjin bites his lip and sits back on his heels. His eyes have burnt with the pain of unshed tears many times over the course of yesterday and today, and right now is no different. He bites harder and harder until the flames in his eyes recede and he tastes bitter iron on his tongue.

“We need to talk, Jisung. About last night.”

“I don’t want to hear it--I know you’re ch--”

“No!” Hyunjin exclaims, and the way Jisung whimpers and cowers even further away from Hyunjin makes him nauseous. He continues with a murmur, “Sung, I’m not cheating on you. Do you really think I would buy you a fucking promise ring just to cheat on you?”

Without missing a beat, Jisung says, “Plenty of married couples cheat on one another. The ring doesn’t mean anything!” Every second, Jisung’s voice grows more and more steely, and every second, the bile creeps further and further up Hyunjin’s throat.

Hyunjin takes a deep breath. In through the nose, and out through the mouth. “Why do you even think I’m cheating on you? What could I have possibly done to make you think that!”

Jisung sighs as he stares at and twists the silver band around his finger. “I know how much you admire Minho, Hyunjin. Anyone would,” Jisung says with a dry laugh. “But sometimes...sometimes I wonder why you bend yourself over just to please him.” Now, Jisung’s eyes bore straight into Hyunjin. “You succumb to his every whim just because you want him to think you’re a good dancer. You always,  _ always  _ care about what he thinks. All you ever want to do is fucking please him.

And then I just started thinking, you know? Where does that even come from? Staying out so late every night for the past two weeks just to please him? But then, I just, _ realized,  _ that maybe that’s  _ exactly  _ what you’re doing. Your dancing wasn’t enough to please him, so you tried other things. It seems like a reasonable conclusion to me, since you were so quick to jump on my back about bringing it up yesterday night.”

Hyunjin has hammers pounding against the inside of his skull, and acid pouring into his mouth. He presses his face hard against his hands as if the pressure will force those words out of his skull like he never heard them.

“How fucking  _ dare you,  _ Jisung, really. I can’t believe you of all people would say something like that to me,” Hyunjin seethes through gritted teeth. “I literally can’t fucking believe you implied I was a whore like that,” he continues, voice cracking as tears well up in his eyes. Before he knows it, they spill down his cheeks like raindrops on the window of a car.

Jisung’s voice is still steely, but resolve seeps through the cracks of the metallic exterior and settles behind his words. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“Then what did you mean, Jisung?” Hyunjin asks, voice piercing through his soft crying.

Jisung goes silent.

“Exactly.”

Hyunjin balls his hands into fists and squeezes so hard they shake. “Just like you said to me last night, Jisung. ‘Your silence is really damning,’” he says as he rises to his feet. He lets out a dry laugh. He just wants to give up. Hyunjn’s heart pleads to his mind not to give up, that no relationship can go 70 miles per hour without speed bumps to slow them down. But his brain seethes back that they’ve hit a large speed bump, so hard and so fast that now, the car goes flying.

But before Hyunjin can make it out the door, nimble fingers wrap themselves around his wrist and they tug, pulling him away from failure, from the edge of a cliff that overhangs a shadowed abyss.

Hyunjin turns to glare at Jisung, but the wall crumbles when he sees the tears streaking down Jisung’s cheeks, and the boy pleads, “Please don’t go. Don’t let it end like this.”

Even if Hyunjin grasps Jisung’s hand and squeezes, he does not back down. “What makes you think you deserve to tell me to not go when you accuse me of cheating, Sung? And call me a whore in a roundabout way?” Hyunjin murmurs. “Why do I have to sit here and take it? Why?”

“I don’t deserve it,” Jisung says as he looks down. Hyunjin’s eyes widen for just a moment. “You don’t deserve anything I just said to you.” Jisung sighs. “But you aren’t even  _ trying  _ to understand how I feel.”

Hyunjin scoffs, pokes his tongue against the inside of his cheek, but he figures it’s high time that they stop screaming at each other. They do have neighbors, after all, and they’re prone to being quite nosey. God knows how much they’ll gossip after this.

So, he gestures for Jisung to scoot over, and quickly slides under the blanket where Jisung has vacated. There’s still a half foot between them. They’re six inches from toeing the line of no return, too, and six inches from pulling that red thread so far apart that it snaps.

“I can’t understand how you feel if all you do is accuse me of cheating on you. That’s now how you feel,” Hyunjin mumbles while picking a thread on the old comforter.

Jisung inhales. “I feel….alone, Hyunjin. It’s not about being home by myself. But sometimes you don’t even fucking message me for an entire day, you don’t tell me you’re coming home, and you think I’m supposed to be okay with that. Because I’m not. I just want some fucking reassurance that I’m not losing you, because it sure feels like it.”

Hyunjin chews on his already brutalized lower lip, and this time he rotates the band around his finger around and around and around.

“I’m sorry,” Hyunjin whispers. I never meant to make you feel like you were alone. Honestly and truly, dance is consuming me right now. And it fucking sucks, because I feel like the enjoyment is being sucked out of the one thing I feel like doing. I’m sorry my shitty moods have...I don’t know...manifested into isolating myself from you.”

Finally, Hyunjin looks up to see Jisung staring right back. Tentatively, he raises his left hand, slowly to gauge if Jisung intended on pulling away. When the chewed-up tips of Hyunjin’s fingers graze Jisung’s soft cheek, and the boy does not pull away from his touch, Hyunjin cups his cheek. And when Jisung leans into the touch, in the cute way that bunches his cheek up like a campfire marshmallow, Hyunjin has to bite back the tears again.

“I’m sorry for accusing you of cheating on me, Jinnie.” The nickname alone almost threatens to compromise the dam behind Hyunjin’s eyes that he’s trying to hard to repair. “I know you aren’t.” Jisung’s voice drops to an impossibly soft tone. “You just have no idea how fucking scared I am of you getting bored of me. That one day, after all these years, you’ll decide that spending your life with me will be fruitless and that you’ll go after someone who’s more outgoing and can give you a more exciting lifestyle.”

“Sung--”

“Wait a sec’, Jinnie, please. And when you just….stop talking to me, like you never have before, my mind just tells me that that’s exactly what you’re doing. It’s not right of me to assume that means you’re cheating on me, trust me, Lix gave me an absolute earful about that. But it just seemed like the most logical conclusion at the time.” He takes a deep breath. “Okay, I’m done.”

“You’re right, it really wasn’t right of you. It’s not fun, Sung, not fun for the one person you love most in the world to accuse you of breaching their trust and not even letting you explain yourself.” Jisung tweaks his lips in the cutest way to kiss Hyunjin’s palm. Hyunjin laughs softly, the first genuine laugh that’s spilled past his lips in days. “And especially calling me a whore. I’m not forgiving you for that one. You know exactly how that makes me feel.”

“Yeah, I do. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you for apologizing.”

“Are we okay now, Jinnie? Are we gonna go back to how it all was before?”

Hyunjin sighs. He wishes sweet nothings, words of reassurance, could spill from his lips easily, like water spills over a cliff. However, Hyunjin isn’t the lead male protagonist of a straight woman’s guilty pleasure romance novel he claims to be.

He is, though, Hwang Hyunjin, boyfriend and maybe soon-to-be-fiance of Han Jisung. So although he and Jisung aren’t perfect, no matter how much it might seem so to any outsider, they’re going to be okay. The deepest wounds are always the easiest to cut, especially when you own the sharpest sword. The healing process is long, arduous, and awful for a pain that lasts no more than a second, but it’s also what matters most.

Hyunjin pulls Jisung into a hug. The hug is awkward with how they sit, criss-cross-applesauce just like in grade school, but it feels right, however cliche that may be. 

“We will be.”

  
  



End file.
